Animagus Problems
by Arawna
Summary: Harry's out after curfew when he's caught in a compromising position. No, not that kind of compromising position, you perv...
1. Animagus Problems

Title: Animagus Problems

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything relating to the world of HP does not belong to me.

Summary: Harry's out after curfew when he's caught in a compromising position. No, not _that_ kind of compromising position, you perv…

* * *

Animagus Problems:

Well fuck. Fuck, fuck, and double fuck. You know, I probably should listen to Hermione every once in a while, at the very least. She kept nagging about how I could get caught, killed, - 'or worse' as she puts it - expelled. But, honestly, who would give a second thought to a roaming cat? There's been many times, while wandering around at midnight, that I've seen other students' cats prowling, looking for mice or searching for something to do other than sleep. How would a teacher know that the black cat with an odd white patch on its forehead was me? They wouldn't. They would look at it in an annoyed manner then be on their way. It always happens. Snape's seen me many, many times without deducting points from Gryffindor, so I'm to assume that my form is almost perfect. Well, of course the form is perfect, it's just holding the form that isn't, but that's another story. The present story is much more of an emergency.

Again with the series of 'fuck's. And again with the 'how in the hell was I supposed to know that I should've listened to Herm?' Merlin, I can be stupid sometimes, but I guess that little fact can be attributed to me possessing a Y chromosome, so it's inevitable. _Stupid, stupid child_ is the mantra that's running itself through my head at the moment. For once, I have to agree with what my brain has to tell me: I am a stupid child. If I get out of this alive, I swear to Merlin that I will never wander the halls again at odd hours of the night and/or morning in my animagus form.

However, the prospect of escaping this Hell alive is dwindling by the second. All eyes are staring directly at me, but all of the questions are directed at the person whose lap I'm in. Yes, that is my current predicament. I am _trapped_ in the Slytherin common room, being thoroughly petted by the one, the only, Draco Malfoy. I mean - WHAT THE FUCK?! If that wasn't torture enough, I swear I heard him claim to keep me as his pet. Like hell I'm gonna let him do that! If I could, I'd change right here, right now, and give him a piece of my mind - and possibly a fist to the face, but that's not the point. Unfortunately, the fact that if I were to do that I may die kinda puts a damper on my idea. Instead, I will sit and take the abuse that the blonde seems to think I deserve, even if said abuse is him scratching right under my chin and -

No! Must! NOT! PURR!! That is a sign of weakness at his hands! A sign that I am enjoying his ministrations; which I am not!!! But the way he seems to get the hallow of my throat is just…purrrrrrrrr…

Wait…What? I know, I know, I'm not following the conversation much, but if that Parkinson bitch just suggested what I think she did, she will have hell to pay when I'm free and turn back into myself. I do not find it amusing in the least to use me as a target to practice for Death Eater Training Camp. One can only think of how bad the curses and hexes they'd use on a poor helpless creature. Okay, so I'm neither poor nor helpless, but that's not the point. I can't believe she had the audacity to suggest that. Screw the waiting 'til I turn back, I should claw her eyes out right -

Huh? He did not just defend me, the Boy Who Lived Half a Dozen Times. Of course, he's actually defending the cat, not the boy - er man - er man-boy. Fuck this, I'm seventeen, I'm a man. Anyway, he's defending the cat, not the man, so why are these annoying little insects dancing around in my stomach?

Oh, there he goes with the scratching again. Mmm, I may reconsider his wanting to have me as his pet idea…

Aw, hell no. He is _not_ naming me Harry! That's already my name!!! I am not going to be coincidentally named the same name by the boy - er man - man-boy? He's seventeen, too, so he's a man, too, no matter how much I don't wanna admit that he's like me. Anyway, I am not going to be named the same name by this man(ish thing). I cannot believe I am hearing this; and judging by the faces of the Slytherins, they can't either.

Oh, that's funny. If I could laugh in this form, I would. No one is going to believe that, Draco. Er, Malfoy. Definitely Malfoy. No one is going to believe that you named this cat Harry because you could then brag that you own Harry Potter and that you have him in the palm of your hand. They know that there's another reason, a reason I myself do not know, but _they_ know, so that's all that matters.

Oh, there they go with talk of using me as target practice.

Sigh Merlin, could this get night get anymore hellish?

Aw fuck, I had to go an asked the universal 'do not ask when in a tight spot' question. It was bad enough that I am trapped in the Slytherin Dungeons, but does he _really_ have to take me up to his _private_ room? Can't I just 'sleep' in the common room? Fuck, now he's claiming this is for my 'protection' from the other Slytherins. Shit. Nononononon!!! Anywhere but his dorm room!

See, this is where the _other story_ comes in that I mentioned earlier. Well, uh, there's one, little, tiny problem with this whole animagus thing - erm, two actually: One - when I fall asleep, I, uh, turn back to my human form. And two - um…I haven't managed to get the whole 'turn back while still wearing clothing' thing down pat yet. I've seen Pettigrew and Sirius do it many, many times, but I just can't grasp that little part of the transformation. Don't look at me like that! I'm new at this!! Sort of. Anyway, how was I supposed to know that I'd end up trapped in Draco Malfoy's dorm room for the night?!

TBC…


	2. Defending Cats

Title: Animagus Problems

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything relating to the world of HP does not belong to me.

Summary: Harry's out after curfew when he's caught in a compromising position. No, not _that_ kind of compromising position, you perv…

* * *

Defending Cats:

And here Pansy and Blaise were always saying that nothing but trouble would come from my midnight strolls around the castle. Shows what they know. I mean, I can see where they come from, with my shock of platinum hair, it'd be easy to notice me in the pitch-black of night. In fact, I'm kinda surprised that I even noticed the black-as-midnight cat trotting down the corridor, his tail in the air and acting as if he didn't have a care in the world. He was just so cute, being all black, with the strangest marking on his forehead and vibrant green eyes. If I didn't know better, I'd say he looked like Potter, but he's too much of a goody-two-shoes Gryffindor to go around as an unregistered animagus. His likeness to the famous wizard may be the only reason I picked up the poor creature; something in me must have wanted to possess those dark features no matter where they came from. Merlin, that makes me sound something like a whore.

Mother and father never let me have an animal before. Not a toad, not a cat, not an owl, not even a snake. They thought that owning an animal would instantly cause me to act more plebian; yeah, 'cause that happens _all_ the time. Between his likeness and my lack of pets when I was a child, I guess it's not that much of a surprise that I plucked the little creature from the floor. Hell, he didn't even make that much of a protest.

Merlin, by the way my Housemates are staring at my new pet, you'd think they'd never seen a cat before. They just kept staring at the poor thing and bombarding me with questions.

"Where'd you find him?"

"In an empty corridor."

"Who does he belong to?"

"Hell if I know."

"Are you gonna keep him?"

"Yeah, why not? I'll make him my pet."

At this, the cat seemed to tense. Aw, the little thing was afraid of the big, scary Slytherins. Oh, Merlin, I did not just say that… Scratching the cat's chin, I continued my conversations.

"Maybe we could use the little beast as target practice?" Pansy suggested.

Oh no she di'n't. Again, the little cat seemed to tense at her words.

"This is my cat now, and there's no way in Heaven, Earth, or Hell that I am about to let you _touch_ him, let alone cast potentially harmful spells at him! One can only think of what kind of horrible curses and hexes you'd use on this poor, helpless creature!"

The scratching of the cat's chin continued as the question flow barreled forward, unheeded.

"So, whatcha gonna call him?"

I guess I do have to name the little cutie. "Harry."

"Why the fuck would you name him after Potter?"

Oh shit. I said it, so I now have to give them a half decent explanation. "Well…erm. So that I can claim that I own Harry Potter and that I have him in the palm of my hand?"

Well, fuck, what's the use of being in Slytherin if you can't lie to your 'friends'?

"Draco," Pansy cooed. "We all know that's not the reason."

By the faces of my Housemates, I'd say they all agreed with her.

Okay, I hope I'm not crazy. Do cats chuckle? Merlin, I hope I don't need to visit St. Mungo's.

"Hey, we can relieve you of the stress of naming him and just use him as the target practice Parkinson suggested."

I swear I will AK whoever even _attempts _to suggest using my Harry as target practice. Oh, Merlin, that made me sound like I'd try to kill the Dark Lord for using the _real_ Harry for target practice. Gods know that he's done it enough times.

Yawn Ugh, it's too early to be tired; it's only quarter to one. Whatever, I might as well go to bed if I'm just gonna be pestered by these idiots.

"Where're you going, Draco?"

"To bed."

"You're taking _Harry_ you?"

"Well, yeah. It's either that, or leave him here with you, which I am not doing. He's safer in my room."

"Night, Draco," the whole common room chorused in sickly sweet voices.

The door slammed behind me and the cat jumped from my arms. I let him scratch at the door while I dressed for bed. If I didn't know better, I'd think that the cat was pointedly avoiding looking in my direction as I shed the school robes. Aw, it's so cute. As soon as I was clad in silk pajamas, I scooped my new cat up in my arms and padded off toward the bed.

TBC…


	3. A Compromising Position

Title: Animagus Problems

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything relating to the world of HP does not belong to me.

Summary: Harry's out after curfew when he's caught in a compromising position. No, not _that_ kind of compromising position, you perv…Tee hee…well, _now_ it's kinda compromising.

* * *

A Compromising Position:

The stir of another body woke Draco from his dreamless sleep. It was warm, it was soft, and it was naked. Still in a state between sleep and wakefulness, Draco nuzzled against the body wrapped in his arms. This elicited an appreciative moan from the body. Grinning through his drowsy haze, Draco began to place kisses at random places on the skin before him. His ministrations were answered with a purr of pleasure this time.

Of course, the purr reminded Draco of his new pet. He shot up, ignoring the grunt of disappointment that the body shot at him.

"Harry?" Draco's eyes zoomed from one corner to the other. "Harry?"

"Stop yelling," the body groaned, reaching out with a calloused hand to grab at the green silk pajamas Draco was wearing. "And go back to what you were doing."

The Slytherin knew that voice, Merlin knows he's received his fair share of insults from it.

"Potter?" Draco asked, an uncertain waver in his tone.

After wiping his eyes, the boy in question squinted at Draco. "Malfoy?" The blonde nodded. "Aw, fuck, I fell asleep."

"What do you mean, you 'fell asleep'?"

"What? I was tired, and I couldn't get away, you were holding on too tight. It was inevitable really."

"I-I- what?!" Draco was still sitting up in the bed as Harry propped himself up on his elbows. Draco tried his damnedest not to look at the way the muscles shifted under the tanned skin of the boy occupying his bed.

"Er - that cat you picked up last night - yeah, that was me."

Draco continued to stare disbelievingly at Harry.

Harry smirked. "Are you going to continue staring, or are you going to finish what you started?"

Of course, he hadn't given Draco a chance to answer for himself, since he used his Seeker-swift reflexes to hook the blonde behind the head and pull their lips together. Draco gave a rather undignified squeak as Harry's velvety tongue traced his bottom lip. His squeak quickly turned to a moan as that very same tongue pushed into his mouth, exploring and tasting any and everything before it.

"Now, will you cooperate?" Harry asked as he pulled away from Draco, who tried to follow those intoxicating lips. "Ah, ah, ah. Answer the question."

Pouting, Draco responded, "Of course I'll fucking cooperate. I thought that was evident."

Harry shrugged and launched himself at the blonde. Draco squawked as the other boy landed on him.

"Merlin, you're fucking hard already?!" Draco exclaimed as Harry reigned kisses down on the pale column that was the Slytherin's neck.

"It seems I had some pleasant dreams," the Gryffindor answered between kisses.

"Of what?" asked Draco shyly.

"Mmm, you," Harry murmured, attempting to work the buttons of the silk pajamas. However, they proved to be a formidable enemy.

Draco flushed at the other boy's words, making no motion to help with the rebellious buttons. "Re-really?"

"Mhm, now shut up," he chided, halting in his ministrations to glare daggers at the uncooperative bits of silver that adorned the button holes. "How the hell do these things come off?"

"You put them through the holes. Pretty self-explanatory," offered the blonde. "Want me to help?"

"No," growled Harry. "I can do this." His nimble fingers still had no success in their conquest. "Just a little bit more." The buttons fumbled and twisted in his fingers, evasive in their maneuvering. "Aw, fuck it." Harry grabbed the two separate pieces that were connected by the damned buttons and pulled, ripping the garment.

"Harry!" Draco shrieked in a very poncey tone. "Do you have any idea how expensive these pajamas are?"

"Well," the dark-haired boy replied with a lick to Draco's collar bone. "Since you're wearing them, they'd _have_ to be expensive." Another kiss planted at the hollow of Draco's neck. "Let me rid you of the rest of them."

With one fluid motion, Draco's pajama bottoms and boxers were off and thrown across the room. The garments landed on the stone floor with nary a sound.

"If those wrinkle-" Draco tried to protest, before Harry decided to shut him up; with his mouth, of course.

"If they wrinkle," Harry said, kissing a path along Draco's jaw line. "I'll buy you a new pair. Promise."

"Really?" Draco gasped as Harry found the sensitive spot by his ear.

"Mhm," was the response. "In fact, I'll buy you a pair so expensive, that there's hardly any fabric to it."

Draco nudged Harry up so that he could look at him in the face. "What?! How the hell does that make any sense?"

He got a shrug in reply. "It's a Muggle thing."

The Gryffindor then went back to his task of mapping out the Slytherin's skin with his tongue, ignoring any further protests.

By the time Harry had mapped all the way to Draco's right nipple, however, all protests seemed to cease. Instead, the only sounds resonating from the blonde were in the 'moaning and groaning' department as Harry flicked said nipple with his tongue.

"I-" Lick. "-hope-" Lick. "-you-" Lick. "-know-" Lick. "-that-" Lick. "-you're-" Lick. "-gonna-" Lick. "-bottom," Harry murmured into Draco's skin on his journey down the pale torso. Draco 'meeped' as Harry plunged his tongue into Draco's bellybutton.

"Ha-Harry," the Slytherin gasped, attempting to sit up. "What do you mean, I'm gonna bottom?"

Harry sighed and propped himself up on his elbows to look at Draco in the eye. "You're gonna bottom because the author chose it to be that way." The dark-haired boy shrugged again. "If you don't like it, take it up with her, otherwise, lay back and enjoy the ride."

With an annoyed sigh, Draco flopped back onto the bed; Harry just kept smirking at the blonde's face.

"Who's hard now?" he quipped.

Draco threw an arm over his eyes. "Of course I am! With you and that tongue, who _wouldn't _be?"

"Well, a woman," answered the Gryffindor reasonably. "Seeing as how they lack the required anatomy."

"Shut up, Potter," Draco chided, raising his arm to glare at the boy. "I know better things that mouth could be doing."

"Mmm, so do I," Harry grinned, before taking the whole length of Draco into his mouth.

Again, Draco 'meeped' before moaning as that talented tongue played along the underside of his cock. He found himself wondering who Harry had been practicing on, and exactly how many times practice would make perfect. Candidates sprang into his head, and one by one, he found evil and nefarious ways to torture them so they'd never lay eyes on Harry again. However, his thoughts soon drifted to the feeling of the mouth on his member and the wonderful suction that the raven-haired boy was providing.

Biting the back of his hand, Draco realized that he'd never quite had a sexual experience like this one before. Sure he'd had his fair share of blow jobs, but none were quite so…er, mind-blowing. None of the other boys, or even the girls for that matter, were as talented with their lips, tongue, and yes, teeth, as Harry was. Draco hadn't even thought it _possible_ to receive pleasure from the grazing use of teeth on his cock, but there he was, doing just that! With one last suck so hard, Draco watched Harry's cheeks hollow out, the blonde's hot come was spurting down the raven-haired boy's throat.

Harry waited for Draco to stop thrusting into his mouth before he removed the other boy from his mouth.

"Mmm, you taste good," he purred as he slithered his way up Draco's body, causing more friction as he went.

Draco snorted in an un-Malfoy manner. "No one's ever proclaimed my tastiness, before."

Harry's eyes narrowed at the other boy. "No one is allowed to taste you ever again. Understood?"

Draco felt his heart do this odd little fluttering thing that he was sure had meant something was wrong with him. "O-okay."

"Hmm, that's right," Harry murmured. "Submit like a good little Slytherin."

Before Draco could protest, Harry affixed his mouth to Draco's, effectively putting a stop to anything the blonde was going to retort.

When Harry pulled back a moment later, Draco looked up at him and wrinkled his nose.

"You like bitter food don't you?" he inquired. Grinning, the Gryffindor nodded.

They shared one more lazy kiss before Harry sat back on his heels in between Draco's spread thighs.

"Okay, where do you keep anything that resembles, or that can be used for, lubricant?"

Draco hadn't exactly been expecting that question - a question he knew was coming - to be phrased in such a way.

"Erm - in the top drawer in my wardrobe," Draco offered after a moment.

Harry had jumped off the bed and was across the room in a little more than a leap. It was evident that the stone floor was chilly by his ginger steps. Whilst Harry was digging through the top drawer of Draco's wardrobe, the Slytherin took the opportunity to remove the now torn rags that used to be his pajama top. Merlin, if Harry was always that aggressive, he would definitely have to insert a specific pajama section into the budgets in the future.

The thought of future garment ripping made his heart do the fluttering thing again. None of his prior relationships were long-term, in fact, he didn't _want_ them to be long-term. But thinking about being with Harry like this just felt…right. Well, not 'right' in the good sense of the word, seeing as how his father was one of the biggest bad-asses his generation would ever see, but he was sure Harry would get it if he vocalized his contentment. A whoop of triumph from the direction of the wardrobe tore Draco from his reveries of the future.

With a few more ginger steps across the stone-cold floor, Harry was bouncing on the bed, attempting to properly situate himself in his previous position.

"No wonder you always smell like coconut," Harry mused, reading the label of the lubricant.

"Wh-what's that supposed to mean?" Draco stammered, turning an appealing shade of pink.

"Nothing," Harry answered, leaning forward to peck a kiss onto the tip of his nose. "Just that you're a healthy teenage boy." He sat up again, so that he was sitting more or less straight up. "Who needs to empty his drawers of the empty lubricant bottles."

Draco scoffed at the Gryffindor, looking almost wounded. The operative word here being 'almost'. However, true to Slytherin nature, his face donned a lustful expression without difficulty.

"Are you going to keep ridiculing my cleaning habits, or lack thereof," Draco purred. "Or are you going to have your wicked way with me?"

A vindictive grin spread across Harry's face as he languidly squeezed the coconut scented gel onto his fingers. He worked his fingers over each other, spreading the lubricant and warming it all in one fell swoop. "Whatever you say, my princess."

"Princesssssssss?" Draco hissed as Harry slid one slick digit into his entrance without warning.

"Yes, princess," Harry replied, leaning forward slightly. The minute movement forced the finger deeper into Draco, making him gasp at the smallest movement. "Or would you rather me call you some horrid pet name like 'baby'?"

Draco was panting as Harry inserted his second finger. "Pr-princesssss is j-just fine."

"Hmm," Harry hummed, leaning forward again to kiss and suckle at Draco's neck. "That's what I thought."

At this point, Draco's sensory receptors were going into overload, with the fingers in his bum, the lips at his neck, and the hand - that he hadn't even noticed before - that was playing with one nipple. He groaned as a third finger plunged into him, spreading and widening him.

"Harry," the blonde gasped. "Harry, I need you. _Now_!"

"Whatever you say, my princess," repeated Harry. He gingerly withdrew his fingers from inside Draco, who watched as he squeezed more gel onto his fingers again to stroke the length of his cock. With the utmost care, he positioned himself at Draco's entrance, staring down at the blonde with something resembling affection in his eyes. "Now, this may hurt at first, or may be uncomfortable. But you should know, I won't do anything unless you say so, alright?"

Draco nodded, giving Harry all the permission he needed to breach the warmth that was his new lover boy. The blonde gasped again as Harry slid himself into the welcoming hole, inch by agonizing inch. Once he was completely sheathed in the wet heat, Harry bit his lip and gazed down at Draco.

Harry had experience in this department, but never before had a partner looked so very…was angelic the right word? Harry didn't care. If he ever found himself describing it back to Draco, he would definitely use the word _angelic_, because that's what he was, with his white blonde hair splayed out on the pillow, his lips pink and swollen with that 'just been thoroughly snogged' look to them, his silver eyes clouded with lust and desire, and his pale, silky skin turned an appealing shade of light pink with the heat.

"For the love of the gods, Harry. MOVE!" ordered the Slytherin.

Harry didn't need to be told twice.

His first movement was slow and measured, as to not harm Draco in any way, shape, or form. Slowly pull out; slowly push in. That was Harry's rhythm for, oh, about two seconds, before the almost overwhelming feeling of being inside Draco coerced him to succumb to the Slytherin's ordering, "_Harder_. _Faster_._Deeper_."

Settling for a paced and steady rhythm that kept both boys happy, Harry wrapped his fingers around Draco's cock, which was begging for attention once again. The blonde gasped as Harry's fingers worked up and down the length of him, squeezing slightly at the base every once in a while and running his thumb over the head. The Gryffindor wanted to give Draco every pleasure he could think to give.

"_Gods_," Draco gasped, twisting his hands in the dark green sheets. "_Harry_!"

The sight of the Slytherin's head thrown to the side, with his mouth wide with a silent scream, and a sudden release of Draco's second orgasm only gave Harry a fraction of a second's notice before he felt the blonde clenching around him. It was just too much for the Gryffindor.

"_Draco_!" Harry cried as his own orgasm was ripped from him, coating the inside of Draco with warmth. When his muscles quit their trembling, he rolled from on top of the Slytherin.

For long, drawn-out moments, the only sounds that filled the room was ragged panting and heavy breathing, before Draco finally spoke up.

"Harry?" he asked almost hesitantly.

"Hmm?" Harry purred, nuzzling into Draco's neck.

"You…you called me 'Draco'," the blonde whispered in a tone that Harry almost didn't hear.

"Well," the Gryffindor said slowly, propping himself up to look at Draco. "That _is_ your name, isn't it?"

Draco bit his lip before answering. "Uh, yeah. But you never called me by my name, always 'Malfoy' or 'you'. Even this morning. In fact, you called me 'princess' instead of 'Draco'."

"Oh," Harry breathed, looking away from Draco. "Well, I'm sorry."

Harry kissed Draco once more before settling down along his side once again. Long moments passed again before either spoke.

"So," Draco drawled in a low voice. "You seem to be having animagus problems."

"What was your first clue?" Harry snorted, running random patterns over Draco's chest with one finger.

"Quite possible the fact that I picked up a cat last night, only to have it turn into Harry Potter sometime in the middle of the night," Draco claimed. "Naked no less."

"Yeah, I need to fix that," the Gryffindor stated.

"No you don't," interjected the blonde. When Harry gave him a questioning look, he continued. "The Slytherins would be heart-broken if my adorable little kitty cat never came back." Harry snorted at this. "And, I'm sure they would be delighted if he would show up every once in a while, just to pay a 'visit' to the one that found him. In fact, I think his finder himself would be overjoyed."

Harry smirked. "You know, I think I could persuade the little kitty to come down to big-bad Slytherin territory, but only on the grounds that he gets a treat or a reward for doing so."

"I'm sure we could work something out," Draco mused, pulling Harry in for a deep kiss.

_**Fins**_


End file.
